


my only sin is.

by fade131



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Mild Mind Control, Permission, a dumb vampire falling in love, seduction powers, this is a mess sorry bye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7863457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fade131/pseuds/fade131
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.”</p><p>Jiyong rolls his eyes, unapologetic. “He’s not dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	my only sin is.

“You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.”

Jiyong rolls his eyes, unapologetic. “He’s not dead,” he grumbles, nudging the body at his feet. He groans, and Jiyong tries to remember what he said his name was. Seungri, maybe?

Youngbae stares at him, flat and unimpressed. “He’s still in my kitchen. Why did you bring him here?”

“They always wake up all hung over and… anyway, you can take care of it, right?” He smiles, charming and bright, even though it rarely ever works on Youngbae. It doesn’t now, either.

“I’m not your— and you’re gone, of course,” Youngbae sighs, the afterimage of shimmering fog dancing across his vision. He hauls the stranger to his guest room and, still complaining under his breath, goes back to bed.

Jiyong comes back a week later.

It’s the middle of the night again, but Youngbae isn’t in bed. He’s waiting, leaning on his kitchen counter, a book propped open in front of him. The flock of bats was clearly a surprise, but he smiles when Jiyong retakes human form.

“You’re back.”

Jiyong grins, wolfish. “Did you miss me, then?”

“No victim this time?” Youngbae asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Honestly, you act like I’m kidnapping people in the street. They all _agree_ to it.”

“After you charm them into it.”

Jiyong makes a disgusted noise, his unearthly features distorting. “How dare you.”

Youngbae is aware, suddenly and uncomfortably, that he might have crossed a line.

“Ji—”

“No, I understand,” he murmurs, voice dark, moving with calculated ease as he comes around the counter and crowds Youngbae back against the cabinets. “You look at me and I’m just some – monster.”

Up close, he’s cold. The breath of space between them means Youngbae can feel the unnatural stillness of him, can smell his cologne, can see that he’s paler than usual, as if he was carved from marble. Jiyong’s eyes flicker, dark and dangerous, and he feels caught.

“That’s all we are, right? You befriended me, you invited me into your home, you’ve given the impression that I’m not entirely unwelcome but – we’re monsters. Without morals, without qualms, soulless and evil.”

His voice sounds strange, Youngbae imagines, but the thought comes slowly, like he’s swimming through a fog. Jiyong is closer, somehow, pale lips almost brushing Youngbae’s as he speaks.

“It’s so easy for us, isn’t it? For me. No one can deny me, since I must never give them a chance. I can take whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want, and who can stop me? Why would you want to stop me? It’s so much easier to give in, isn’t it, Youngbae? It’s so, so easy…”

He comes back to himself with a jolt, when Jiyong pulls back from him abruptly, the dizzying spell his voice was weaving breaking off sharp and sudden. His own voice sticks in his throat.

Jiyong vanishes, but it isn’t a surprise.

For a month, Youngbae wonders if he’ll be woken in the night by noises in his kitchen again. More than once he wakes from dreams of Jiyong’s honey-dark voice, imagining there’s someone in his house, but there’s nothing. Jiyong doesn’t come.

He feels guilty. He pushed too far, and he didn’t mean to. Fear makes him wait – he can’t forget the way he felt, the way all his inhibitions and concerns seemed to melt away, the way it felt like he could just give Jiyong everything, anything he wanted – but in the end, the guilt makes him go looking. Bloodsucker or not, he had made friends with Jiyong, and now he’d hurt that friendship with careless words.

And, he misses him. More than just his casual appearances, more than the occasional night out with him, more than just interesting conversation. It was different, without him, without the anticipation of seeing him, without the thrill of his flirtations. Part of him wonders if Jiyong has other _friends_ like him, humans he visits when he’s bored, other men he’s stringing along. But deep down he knows it’s not true. 

The club where they met is as busy as it ever is, and Youngbae feels at a loss inside. Jiyong had been eager to dance, had smiled and laughed and pressed tight against him, fingers tangled in his hair, and Youngbae hadn’t realized, hadn’t known what he was. Jiyong had never asked to feed off him. The next time he’d spotted Jiyong in the club they’d spent the night dancing again, chatting, Jiyong smiling over his glass but never seeming to drink any. Youngbae hadn’t noticed – he hadn’t noticed a lot of things. When he’d found out, he’d been surprised but – but it hadn’t changed anything, really. 

“You look lost,” someone murmurs in his ear, and Youngbae turns quickly. The newcomer is smiling wide, white teeth on display, no fangs. His bangs cover his eyes. He looks familiar, and after a moment Youngbae realizes they’ve met before – he’s one of a dozen Jiyong’s unceremoniously ditched in his house to sleep off the haze of being fed from.

“I’m not lost, Daesung.”

He laughs. “Looking for our mutual friend?”

Youngbae nods, looking away. The crowd pulses and sways to the music. “I haven’t seen him around in a while.”

Daesung’s shrug could mean anything, and he leans on the bar next to Youngbae, tilting his head back. The bite mark scarred on his tanned throat is prominent, paler skin almost glowing under flickering blacklight of the club.

“You know him. He comes and goes.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Daesung tries to buy him a drink, but Youngbae declines. Jiyong isn’t here. He slinks back out through the crowd, ducking around couples entranced with each other, and he can’t help imagining Jiyong somewhere else – another club, maybe, finding someone else eager to dance, someone who’ll put their hands on him and move with him. Caught up in his thoughts, he lets his feet take him on the familiar path towards home. 

“You shouldn’t be out this late alone, you know.”

Youngbae startles. He usually doesn’t take this shortcut at night – everyone knows to keep to the main streets after dark. Jiyong pushes himself away from the wall where he’s lurking in the shadows. Youngbae almost makes a snarky comment about him trying too hard to be dramatic, but Jiyong is too pale, too drawn, his eyes glowing oddly in the stark shadows of his face.

“I was looking for you,” he says instead.

Jiyong arches an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, so… maybe you should walk me home. Since it’s so late, and all.”

He thinks for a moment that Jiyong will refuse, will disappear into mist or run off as a wolf, but he tilts his head to the side instead, and holds out a hand.

“C’mon, then. Let’s get you home.”

The walk is quiet, because Youngbae is still working up the courage to speak. Jiyong waits while he unlocks his door, follows him into the kitchen, and leans his elbows back against the counter. He looks worse in full light. 

“I’m sorry,” Youngbae blurts out.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’d rather know how you really feel—”

“That’s just it, though,” he interrupts, barreling ahead. “It’s not how I feel. I know you’re not – a monster, or anything like that. I know you’re not doing anything wrong, or hurting anyone. We’re friends, Ji, and I shouldn’t have said that. And I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Jiyong looks discomfited by his little speech, wrinkling his nose and looking away, brows furrowing. “It’s okay,” he mumbles finally. “I’m sorry, too.”

Youngbae takes a breath. Jiyong is still, silent, a statue in his kitchen, eyes on the floor. He doesn’t work well with apologies, clearly, and Youngbae knows it’s making him uncomfortable. So he nods to himself, and moves to get a glass of water. Jiyong relaxes a fraction, the movement almost human, but then his stillness grows again, overwhelming.

“You haven’t eaten in a while.”

Jiyong blinks, looks at him, and his expression is sheepish. “I… no, I haven’t.”

“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” Youngbae says quietly.

Jiyong laughs, sharp and sudden, and lets his head fall back against the cabinets. “I know I shouldn’t. Makes me hungrier, makes it harder not to…”

“Not to what?”

“I should go,” Jiyong whispers, looking at him sidelong. His eyes are black and red and bright.

“You don’t want to, though,” he states, simple and matter of fact, like he always knew that was true. He takes a step closer on the same sort of chance, acutely aware of the way Jiyong’s pupils narrow to pinpricks, the gleam of light off the tips of his fangs when his lips part.

“You don’t know what you’re offering…”

Youngbae rolls his eyes. “I think I do. And I think you want it.”

“Of course I do,” he says harshly, pushing off from the counter, stalking into Youngbae’s space. “Why do you think I picked you? From the very beginning, I…”

Youngbae grins.

“This isn’t funny,” Jiyong whines, almost petulant. 

“You never asked.”

“I wanted more than just to—”

“Bite me.”

Jiyong’s expression flickers, hunger shining through, and Youngbae’s never seen him like this – dangerously inhuman, beautiful and terrible. Jiyong crowds closer, shining eyes locked with his. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” he whispers. He doesn’t realize they’re moving until his back hits the wall.

“You know what you’re getting yourself into?”

Youngbae laughs, and feels a strange sort of relief at the way the corners of Jiyong’s lips quirk. “Are we gonna talk about this all night?”

It’s Jiyong’s turn to laugh, low and warm and insidious, and it rolls through Youngbae’s mind like a wave. “Not all night, I was just making sure, Bae, you know me…”

It doesn’t matter what he’s saying. The words echo, honeyed sweet and soft, and Youngbae feels dizzy, breathless, swept away. It’s not pain, when Jiyong bites him, although distantly he knows that it stings, that there will be a bruise, a scar. But right now it feels different, a connection, floating golden and warm between them, and he knows distantly that he’s clutching at Jiyong’s back, nails digging into his shoulders, his pulse thrumming loud in his ears and Jiyong’s joining it, sluggish at first but gaining, steady, until their heartbeats are in sync.

He wakes up in his own bed.

The late morning sunshine is streaming through his curtains, painting golden stripes across the bedclothes. His head is heavy, limbs weak, and the ache in his neck is distracting. Long fingers are smoothing through his hair, gentle and repetitive.

“I thought… vampires couldn’t stand sunlight,” he manages, and his voice is rough and scratchy.

He can hear Jiyong’s smile in his voice. “Some of the stories are just stories. How are you feeling?”

“Like you hit me with a car,” he mutters, turning over. 

Jiyong’s fingers stay in his hair. He looks different, more human, a faint flush on his cheeks, pink in his lips. Youngbae smiles at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and Jiyong gives in to the temptation – he leans down, and kisses him.

“Took you long enough,” Youngbae breathes against his lips when they part, his hands fisted in Jiyong’s now extremely rumpled shirt. 

Jiyong laughs, and kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe this is like 5 pages omg
> 
> I hope you enjoyed?? lol sorry bye


End file.
